


Under the Table

by Trixylune



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Blowjobs, Cause smut, F/M, I Blame Tumblr, I don't remember writing this guys, I was going through old word docs and guess what showed up, ImaginexHobbit, Kinda, Public Sex?, Smut, did i say smut?, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 17:00:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6666844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trixylune/pseuds/Trixylune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For imaginexhobbit: Imagine going down on Thranduil under the table during a feast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Table

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know guys. Beware over the top romance novel esque descriptions. This is my first published smut piece and is way out of my usual writing zone (which consists of fluff and cuteness) so please comment and let me know what you think.
> 
> Imagine is here: http://imaginexhobbit.tumblr.com/post/131571585471/imagine-going-down-on-thranduil-under-the-table
> 
> (In other news I accidentally stole the name from a fic I enjoyed on tumblr, though that one is much cuter and longer and currently less smutty than this one. And also about Fili. Who is a dear.)

The sound of merry laughter presided over the feast tonight, the noise level gradually growing louder as the night wore on and the drink continued flowing. The food was pleasing, the company even more so, and the stars shone bright overhead. Or so you assumed, as you couldn’t exactly see them from under the table. The table linen blocked your view of everything except for the legs and feet of the elves sitting at the head table.

The grass softened the ground beneath your knees, and hopefully would prevent any noticeable mud stains on your knees when you re-surfaced later into the party. The next seat to the right was that of Prince Legolas, but he was out dancing, so you only had to worry about the nameless noble to the King’s left possibly stretching out a foot at the wrong angle and bumping your legs.

Not that those things were the current center of your attention. No, that was focused only on the person sitting directly before you, long, muscular legs spread almost obscenely around your torso.

The King usually sat back from the table, reclining regally against his throne like seat, but today he sat up close, lap tucked under the tablecloth. It wouldn’t do for his neighbor to look over and see his robes spread open over his lap, you thought wickedly, unlacing his trousers with a sense of glee. He would have a hard enough time keeping that aloof expression on his face, let alone keep up a coherent conversation. The idea of forcing him to hold that mask in public while you were doing dirty things under the table was the draw that had made this idea so irresistible in the first place, though the idea of the revenge he would enact upon you later created a similar flare of heat.

The muscles in his thighs were tense as you smoothed along them, and a slender, pale hand reached down, tracing the braid along your temple and burying itself in your hair.

It tugged.

_Don’t you dare,_ it commanded. A hidden smirk traced your lips, and a hand jumped from his knee to his exposed cock, curving up from the opening in his pants to brush against the folds of the tablecloth. His hips jerked slightly before he reigned himself in, but his grip tightened sharply, pulling the hairs on the back of your head. Feeling defiant, safe in the building heat of your hiding place, you tightened your grip, pulling upward at a steady pace. You allowed your fingers to rise above the crown, then tugged back down. The slower pace allowed you to see the retreat of his foreskin, revealing the gathering moisture at the very tip of his cock. His grip felt like stone, his body frozen beneath your other hand.  
Your mouth watered.

_Please_ , your hands asked sweetly, now working in tandem. The first settled its grip around the base of his flushed cock, the other reaching into his pants to pull out his heavy balls. You tested their weight, tracing along the skin with light touches, marveling at the smooth warmth under your fingertips. Your jaw ached as if it already stretched around the thickness of his erection. _Let me._ This was transmitted with mischievous touches, delicate fingers smoothing the liquid over the head of his penis, mimicking the caress of a tongue. Your hand left his balls to grab his wrist, and drew it insistently forward until his fingers slid from your locks. As soon as they were within reach, your mouth closed around them. His prick jerked in your hand, betraying his affectedness even with the lack of sound from above you.

As if hearing your thoughts, the neighboring elf struck up a conversation, something about the quality of the wine you thought, though you were a bit distracted. The two fingers pressed with intent against your tongue, the suction drawing them back until they touched your throat, your mouth stretched around the beginning of his fist. Saliva pooled in your mouth, mimicking the wetness pooling between your legs. You wondered if you could get away with moving the hand from his wrist to your skirts, but decided you couldn’t risk losing your treat for something like personal satisfaction. Your King still needed convincing it seemed.

The fist still around his erection began to move with intent, a faster rhythm than before even as you tightened the suction of your mouth, tongue tracing the crease between his fingers before curling around the tips.

“It is a fantastic vintage,” Thranduil’s deep voice agreed from above you. He sounded far too put together for the situation, and your hand sped up in reaction. “It – ah – is very _pleasing on the tongue_.” His intent was clear, as his hand withdrew from your mouth, clutching around at the back of your head and pulling you firmly forward. You quickly braced yourself against his knees to keep from falling, and found yourself face to face with his hardened shaft. Wetness gleamed at the tip. With no further thought, you took it into your mouth and sucked gently.

A spurt of salty liquid was your reward, and you swallowed it with considerable smug satisfaction before settling in for your prize. Curling your tongue around the head of his erection, you brought the shaft deeper into your mouth. Breathing carefully through your nose, you sank down until it bumped the back of your throat.

“The food is delicious as well my lord,” the other elf said, trying to re-spark the conversation.

“Very palatable,” the King agreed. “It’s definitely hitting the s-“

You gave a hard suck and swallowed, feeling the shaft press into your throat.

“Ah,” the King said breathlessly. You drew back to catch a breath. “Spot,” he finished, sounding choked, and you swallowed it back down as compensation for the embarrassment of the mistake. You liked this, Thranduil at your mercy, forced to accept everything you offered him. You liked being able to take your time worshiping his cock, rather than having him impatiently flip you over mid-fun to drive into you for fun of a different sort. You liked the way his legs hadn’t relaxed since you’d first touched him, how they braced on the ground so that he could begin small, abrupt movements of his hips that matched your rhythm, adding extra strength to the thrusts down your throat.

Saliva dripped down the cock that stretched open your lips, and you drew back, sucking up some of the excess and giving little kitten licks to the tip which was still releasing your treat, contemplating your next move. The cock in front of you was all yours, for as long as you wanted it. Quite contradictorily, now that you could take your time enjoying it in your mouth, all you wanted to do was slide up into his lap and sit on it, feeling it stretch you open as your King lost his famed control and grasped you with possessive hands, pulling you down on his aching hardness until he peaked inside you, face blissed out with pleasure. You wouldn’t be able to see his face from under the table.

You dove back down and hummed your displeasure, and his muscles shuddered around you. You paused, surprised by the desire that that involuntary motion inspired in you. You did it again. His thighs went rigid like they did when he braced his feet against the mattress to drive into you and your core clenched tight in response. You began fucking your mouth down onto his cock, simulating the act in your mind. Your other hand went from his knee to your core, your thighs spreading so that you could massage the heat there through the silk of your skirts. Your fingers were quickly soaked. The heat inside you wound even tighter.

“Would you mind fetching more wine, my friend?” your King asked in a faux genial tone. The other male agreed, and you vaguely noticed the other pair of feet leave the table. Within seconds Thranduil’s stomach shifted as he leaned forward, allowing him to bear most of his weight on his feet and his core, and both of his hands buried into the hair behind your ears. The firm pressure held you in place as his hips rose from the chair, thrusting forward into your mouth. The smooth slide of his erection over your tongue made you suck in a futile attempt to keep the shaft from withdrawing completely from your mouth. He thrust one more time, as if he couldn’t help himself, before his cock came to rest lightly against your lips. You couldn’t resist flicking your tongue out to taste it again, leading to another thrust before his fingers pulled you back away from temptation. You blew a stream of cooler air over the damp surface of his erection, and heard him curse under his breath as his cock jerked.

Whatever he was going to say was lost in a soft plea to the Valar before his fingers pressed at the edge of your mouth, opening your jaw for the invasion of his cock once again. His hands pulled you forward and back in tandem with is intense thrusts, his prick stabbing deeply into your throat each time even as he muttered curses and prayers in even measure above you. Your fingers danced harshly over your clit, your other hand rising to cup the weight of your breast and tweaking a nipple as your King took his pleasure in your mouth. Part of you mourned the loss of your playtime, but the other reveled under his control.

You loved the sense of control you got from playing with him, but you also appreciated it when you came out of your encounters feeling used and possessed.

That he could provide both tender love making and disciplined domination was one of the things that had drawn you to him as a lover in the first place.

His breath began to hitch as it did right before he came, and you abandoned your play at your core to bring a hand up to roll his balls, the other grasping the base of his cock so that when he pulled back and came, it stayed angled at your face. White cum burst across your lips and tongue, with some spraying up over your face before sliding in warm trails down your cheeks. You suspected that some might have landed in your hair, and allowed the smug feeling to settle into your chest.

Despite the pleasure of having made him cum, you were still unsatisfied, body wound tighter than was comfortable. Your core fluttered, as if trying to tighten around an invader that wasn’t there. You felt a whine building in your throat, the tension becoming unbearable. Before you could complain, there was a flutter of fabric before Thranduil suddenly pressed you down against the grass, body looming over you in the sudden privacy under the table. His blonde hair was mussed slightly from ducking under the tablecloth, crown askew, now limp cock still hanging out of his trousers, but his expression was intense enough to offshoot his slightly ridiculous state. Your thighs pressed together at the look in his eyes, fierce and lustful, gleaming with triumph. You caught only a glimpse of how pleased he was with himself before he was pressing up your skirts and leaning down, and a mouth latched onto your clit with vigor. You only just remembered to bite your fist to muffle the shriek you made as you came, body seizing and arching away from the ground, pressing up into his heat. Fingers plunged into your core to give you something to clench around as the aftershocks raced through you, a clever tongue still tracing along your most sensitive place. You relaxed back against the ground, head tilted back and eyes blurry, unable to focus on anything except the feel of him between your legs, hands clenching in the flesh of your thighs, tongue stroking along your folds, collecting the evidence of your release. After a few more moments he leaned back up, smoothing your skirts down over your thighs before leaning up to kiss you. You sucked on his bottom lip, eyes closing as exhaustion swept over you.

“Wicked, wicked girl,” he breathed against your lips, his chest brushing against your oversensitive breasts with each word.

“If that was supposed to be a deterrent, it was a poor one,” you responded, hands reaching up to clutch at his side, unwilling to lose the connection after such an intense experience. He allowed it, his own hands moving up to cup your breasts through your dress, fingers circling over your nipples. You groaned.

He licked lightly at your cheek, and you realized that he is cleaning you of his release. Your core clenched again, mourning its emptiness. You longed for his hips thrusting strongly to meet yours, his cock plunging deep into your center, an unrelenting drive that spring boarded you once again into ecstasy as you stare up into his narrowed eyes, his jaw clenched against the strength of his ramming into you.

“We’d have to leave before that noble returns if you want me in your bed tonight my lord,” you said, and he paused, evaluating. You hold your breath. The King almost never left feasts early, as they were supposed to be times for his subjects to interact with him on a more equal level. It allowed him to see to their well being from a closer position than up on his throne. He’d once pulled you into an alcove and fingered you for nearly an hour, driving you closer and closer to your peak before leaving you there unsatisfied, making you wait until he returned to his bedchambers before you could impale yourself on his cock.

“They won’t notice if I leave early just this once,” he agrees, and you smirk, drawing him down once again into a hot kiss before the two of you try to find an ideal time to appear back out from under the table and disappear out into the night with no one the wiser.


End file.
